By Richard Foss
Note: Written in 2007
Culinary author Calvin Trillin had a strange theory about the excellence of Bryant’s Barbecue in Kansas City: that the flavor of the ribs was affected by the counterman’s hands. The man had touched so much good barbecue while working there that his hands magically changed things for the better. It’s not likely that he’s right, but modern diners do concur with Trillin about the joys of truly handmade food. This reverses an earlier attitude that regarded all contact with food as unsanitary, such as the famous boast of the Ward Baking Company in 1910 that their bread was “untouched by human hands.” As it happens, human hands do some things better than any machine, since humans can adjust for difference you only perceive by feel. Cooking is still an art, and at this point in time, at least, machines aren’t artists.
This is a roundabout way of telling you why I felt so happy upon seeing the tortilla maker at Teresa’s Mosaic Café in El Segundo. Oblivious to the diners who watch, she rolls the balls of corn or flour dough, apparently engrossed in her work. It’s the sign of a craftsman, and a very good indication that this restaurant takes enough pride in their ingredients and technique to put both on display. There are other signs too, such as a menu that includes some Oaxacan dishes very rarely seen in the very gringo South Bay. We started a recent meal with bowls of Cazeula, a Sonoran stew, and Caldo de Queso, a potato and cheese soup. If you want to visualize cazuela, at least as it’s made here, consider a hearty Irish beef stew pepped up with a little kick of peppers and a healthy dose of herbs, cumin, and a dash of cinnamon. It’s robust and filling, but still subtle – the beef has been dried to jerky before being rehydrated to tenderness, which concentrates its flavor, and the intense beef flavor was modified with intriguing spices. We discussed it at length – was that a hint of nutmeg, or something else? Our otherwise very helpful server told us only that it was a family recipe, probably a good tactic since it ensures that we’ll come back here when we want more.
The cheese soup was milder in flavor but no less interesting. I had expected a cheese and potato soup to be a kind of chowder or puree, but here were chunks of potato and shreds of herbs in a chicken broth, with no cheese to be seen. A dip of the spoon and the mystery was solved – the cheese was at the bottom, large chunks the texture of partially melted buffalo mozzarella, all gooey goodness. While I knew that there are Mexican cheeses besides the ubiquitous feta-like cotija, I don’t know much about them, but the flavor of this one let me know that there are worlds to explore.
For main courses, we decided on a chile colorado chimichaga, chicken in Molé sauce, and Lomo Adobado – Oaxacan-style pork loin. The chimichaga turned out to be immense, crisp, and stuffed with a very unusual version of chile Colorado. I’m used to chunks of meat smothered in a spicy red sauce, but the meat here was very moist and coated with a luscious combination of spices, with little or no actual sauce. The taste was roughly what I expected, chile and savory spices combined for a little heat and a lot of flavor, but the effect was very different. I’m used to the meat being a minor note, protein drowned out by sauce, but this was an equal partner. The chimichanga usually comes with guacamole and sour cream, but I asked them to hold the cream and they gave me double guacamole – it’s the way to go unless you love sour cream, because the guacamole here is good.
The chicken in Molé sauce was done more or less in the traditional style – there are lots of varieties of Molé sauce, and local or family variations within those styles. (I’m quite prepared to believe that no two Mexican chefs make their Molé exactly alike.) This one was very dark and rich, with chocolate richness and a full, smoky flavor with a chile aftertaste. It was a superior version of the dish, certainly one of the best I’ve had anywhere in the South Bay.
Adobado is another dish that has an incredible variety of regional variations – the Conquistadores took the idea of marinating meat in vinegar with garlic and chilies wherever they went, and there are distinct similarities between the Adobo of the Philippines, Adobado of Mexico, and Adovada of Santa Fe. Marinating the meat in vinegar does much to both tenderize the meat and infuse the other flavors deep beneath the surface, and the version here fell into shreds at the touch of the fork. The spicing was gentle but interesting, a slight vinegar tang along with the peppery flavors of chile and meat. I’d order it again in a heartbeat. It was served with calabacitas con queso, zucchini with corn, tomatoes, onions, and cheese. A vegetarian could do very well ordering a plate of calabacitas, as it’s a well balanced and flavorful combination that is a meal in itself.
Someday I’m going to try dessert at Teresa’s Mosaic Café, but for that to happen, someone is going to have to take away the basket of chips from my side of the table and tell the server not to give me any. Seeing them fresh-made and having them fresh-fried gave me a taste for them, so I always eat too many while waiting for my meal. Since that kind of adult supervision has been lacking in my previous visits, I will have to save that report for another day. And there will be another day, because Teresa’s is my favorite Mexican restaurant in the area, and if you give the place a chance it may be yours too.
NOTE: Be very careful when entering and leaving the parking lot – cars come by very fast, and I have seen accidents here.
Teresa’s Mosaic Café is located at 150 South Sepulveda Boulevard in El Segundo, just South of El Segundo Boulevard. Open daily except Sunday for lunch and dinner, full bar. Handicap access good. Phone 310-648-7212.
